


Tangerine Birds In My Windowsill (Original)

by seerofheart



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Birds, Loss, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post SBURB, Sadstuck later, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seerofheart/pseuds/seerofheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was one person who never came back. You miss them, you miss them a whole lot. You miss the big orange wings and fluffy feathers. </p><p>You have Dave, but it's not the same.</p><p>Sometimes Dave will ignore you when he can tell you're sad whenever you see him. You never mean for it to come across as rude, and he knows that, but you can tell he's hurt by it. Recently, things have gotten better, though.</p><p>Until a day ago."</p><p>Not revised, original version. See last chapter for more information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In a small neighbourhood in Washington State, where the sky is blue and the crickets chirp, there lives a young man. This young man, although kind and caring, was placed through a series of rather unfortunate events in a game called Sburb.

Now, however, this young man is once again standing in his room, not smarter, but wiser, and looking out the window.

==> Be this young man.

You are now the young man. Actually, your name is John. John Egbert. You were about to go to school, actually. You decided to skip it today, though. Hopefully your friends know why. You have a lot of friends. They are all very nice, and they all are extremely caring to you! Although, you know that some of these friends used to be trolls, living on a planet far, far away called Alternia. They used to have candy-corn horns, grey skin and yellow scleras. But you wouldn't tell a soul about that. After all, they'd pin you as crazy.

Almost everyone you met in the game came back. Even the dead. Your Dad is back in the kitchen, and even the exiles go to your school. Without their robes, you'd barely recognize them. But when one brought TAB to school, you all knew. There's also a kid you all avoid - he's got raven hair and green eyes, called Jack. He's nice, but you all veer away. You can't help it.

In your school, which is a pair of buildings called 'Derse' and 'Prospit', all of your friends attend. Somehow, you all ended up in Washington in the end. Dave, Rose, and Jade, who had been sent to their original starting points, all migrated up to Washington to see you and the trolls. They ended up staying, after seeing the name of the school.

However, there was one person who never came back. You miss them, you miss them a whole lot. You miss the big orange wings and fluffy feathers. 

You have Dave, but it's not the same.

Sometimes Dave will ignore you when he can tell you're sad whenever you see him. You never mean for it to come across as rude, and he knows that, but you can tell he's hurt by it. Recently, things have gotten better, though.

Until a day ago.

It all started in Phys-Ed. Dave is really, really good at dodgeball - because he's fast. But yesterday someone hit him straight in the stomach. You, being his friend, had to escort him to the nurse. You felt naseous when they bandaged his stomach, and you absconded as quickly as possible.

From there, it only got worse. You keep shooing away tangerine birds that huddle at your windowsill, and everytime they squeak at your incoming hand you force back tears. 

>John: Shoo away the stupid birds again.

It's been two days since the birds last visited, and now the idiotic things are back again. You quickly bat one away, causing it to screech and fall off the sill. The others followed, calling and screaming. You hope those wretched things are gone for good.

In a moment, however, there's a knock at the door. As it continues to pester you, you finally give in and drag yourself downstairs to the visitor. Swinging open the door, you stare at the boy infront of you. Your breath catches in your throat.

The boy has light, strawberry-blond hair and bright orange irises. His hair is styled almost exactly like Dave's - and he even has a pair of Ben-Stiller glasses, that dangle from his orange sweatshirt.

"Can I help you?" you manage nervously, reminding yourself this isn't him, it can't be him.

"You're the one pushing my birds around?" he quirks a brow, and you notice the little tangerine bird sitting on his shoulder.

"O-oh. . .those are yours? I'm sorry. . ." you say quietly, looking down.

"Look, bro, it's fine. Just don't be so harsh, 'kay?" he explains, with a reassuring smile. It's small, but it's there. "You're breakin' their wings, is all."

"Oh my god, I'm so, so sorry! I didn't know I was hurting them!" you say frantically. He chuckles, shurgging.

"I said it's alright. I'll try to keep them away from here if they bother you, okay?" he offers. You nod, slowly. You look down awkwardly, pushing the lump from your throat.

"Uh. . .have we met before by any chance?" you ask. He smiles again.

"I was waiting for you to say that, dude. What'dya think, shnazzy, huh? I like it." he gestures to himself, and you feel tears welling in your eyes.

You slam the door in his face, sliding down the closed door. You hear him walk away, and choke back a broken sob.

What have you done?


	2. Chapter 2

In a small apartment in Washington State, where the wallpaper peels and cigarettes litter the halls, there lives a young man. This young man feels unusual in his body, as during the horrifying events of the game Sburb he possessed wings, a ghostly tail, and a frightening hole through his stomach.

This young man, with strawberry blond hair and shining orange irises, stands in front of the cruddy mirror, examining himself.

==> Be this young man.

You are now this strange young man. You go by the name Davesprite, although your mysterious drivers' liscence reads 'Davis Rite'. The last thing you remember was being donned in orange feathers from head to toe, fighting alongside the others in a war that would be considered superior to any other. Alexander the Great would have gasped at the horrifying sight.

After examining yourself, the first thought that comes to mind is John. The last time you saw your friend. . .oh god. You can't imagine him dead, but the thought flies through your mind. You find yourself gasping for air and clawing for composure. Where could he be? Is he dead? 

>Davis: Proceed 4 Weeks Forward.

Gladly. It's been four weeks since you awoke on that mysterious bed, and you've found John. You pass his house everyday, begging yourself to go inside. But you can't. Not without remembering John has his own Dave from his timeline.

You decide instead to give John a clue.

It takes a while, but you find a number of orioles, both spot-breasted and streak-backed, and have them fly up to John's window. You pray to a diety you don't believe in that John will see your hint.

Everyday he shoos them away. You can feel your heart break as you retrieve the birds, as they take their place on your shoulder. The little tangerine bird coos in your ear, and you smile. He'll notice. He has to.

>Davis: Another Week, Please.

Fine, fine. It's been another week, and you are convinced John either just doesn't get the hint or knows but has already replaced you. You seriously hope it isn't either. You keep trying, over and over. 

Today, though, John has severely injured one of your birds. You take this as an excuse to knock as his door, requesting that he cease hurting your birds. Yeah. That's good.

You knock at his door, slowly, then quicken your knocks as you notice he isn't coming. When you hear the patter of footsteps down stairs, you hold your breath.

You release it when the door swings open. Its John, really him. With the messy raven hair and blue eyes framed by thick-rimmed glasses. You hesistate from pulling him into a bone crushing hug to let him speak.

"Can I help you?" he says, and you feel something inside you break. Does he not remember you? 

"You're the one pushing my birds around?" It was meant to come out as a statement, but what escaped your lips was a question, as if you didn't know who John was.

"O-oh. . .those are yours? I'm sorry. . ." The way he is speaking to you, it sounds so foriegn. Like you are some weird bird guy with orioles that fly to some random kid's window. You know he assumes it's random, but you know it's not. Although you wouldn't tell him you trained them to do that.

"Look, bro, it's fine. Just don't be so harsh, 'kay?" You force a half smile unto your face, although you hope and pray he can't read your sadness through your uncovered eyes. "You're breakin' their wings, is all." 

"Oh my god, I'm so, so sorry! I didn't know I was hurting them!" he says, and you shrug, unable to hold back the small laugh escaping your mouth. Hearing the concern in his voice seems to hit something inside you, whether it is good or bad, you don't know.

"I said it's alright. I'll try to keep them away from here if they bother you, okay?" you offer, hoping for him to reply with a 'No.', but he doesn't. In fact, he remains completely silent. You are about to give up, walk away, when he turns to you again.

"Uh. . .have we met before by any chance?" he asks. You can't help but beam. Does he remember you? Will he accept you again?

"I was waiting for you to say that, dude. What'dya think, shnazzy, huh? I like it." you joke, gesturing to your new human form. You see something sad in his eyes.

He slams the door in your face. You feel like you are on the verge of tears, when you remember Striders don't cry. But then you remind yourself you aren't a Strider, but a mysterious kid with tangerine orioles called Davis Rite. A single tear runs down your cheek, and as you walk away you decide that Rites. . .they may cry sometimes.

You also decide to never send the orioles back to the windowsill of who you thought was your best friend.


	3. Chapter 3

>John: Stop this nonsense and off the floor with you!

Alright, alright. You stand up, wiping your eyes, and open the door, as if you were thinking the boy was still out there. He wasn't, of course, and looking down the street you couldn't even spot his figure drifting away. As soon as the one friend you wanted came back into your life, you pushed him out again.

You are such an idiot.

You close the door once more, dragging yourself up the stairs. They creak as you trudge up, finally on the second floor, after what seemed like an hour. Of course, it was less than a minute really. Time doesn't really matter to you anymore. Or you tell yourself that, to keep from thinking of him.

You flop down on your bed, and look to the windowsill, hoping a small, tangerine bird will be sitting there. Of course, there isn't, and you are left to sigh and convince yourself they were never there at all.

>John: Be the kid in the park.

You are now the kid in the park, although we know from before your name is in fact Davis Rite. You are currently sitting in the park, feeding your birds. You try to forget, look at the sunlight around you and pet the down of your orioles, but you can't.

That door in your face might have as well been a bullet to the heart.

You had guessed that he may not remember you, and prepared yourself for grief, although him looking at you, recpgnizing you, and flat out rejecting your presence entirely. . .it hurt. He'd replaced you with his own Dave. You was only another Dave, after all, from another timeline, and he saved his John.

You didn't. 

This is what you get, you guess. Even though it hurts you, if John is happy, it's all that matters, right? Right.

>Davis: Stop being an angsty teenager and skip forward a few hours.

You skip forward a few hours. It's now around nine at night, and the sun has set. You yawn quietly, the birds chirping sleepily up at you. Closing your eyes, you lean back on the bench. You don't feel like running back to your apartment anyway. A voice, however, disturbs you.

"Dave?" you open your eyes, seeing a figure of a girl beyond your shades. Adjusting to the darkness, your eyes widen. Harley? What's she doing here?

"My name 's not Dave," you drawl, the words like venom on your lips. "Sorry. Got the wrong guy."

"Wow, you look exactly like my friend, Dave!" she beams at you. "In fact, you look a lot like - oh my God." she presses a hand to her mouth. "You...oh my God."

"What?" you quirk an eyebrow. What's gotten her so flustered all of a sudden? 

"Davesprite?" she chokes. You open your mouth, but close it and just give a slow nod. She breaks out into another smile, and pulls you into a strong hug, lifting you off the bench.

She continues to smile. "We've missed you so much!" she says, "Have you gotten a chance to see John? He probably missed you the most, you know!" 

"I. . ." you trail off, looking to the side.

"Oh lord, he was an idiot about it, wasn't he?" she rolls her eyes, "I mean. . .It's what you expect from him, I guess, but what did he do this time?" she places a hand on her hip.

"Slammed the door in my face." you say simply, to keep your voice from cracking.

"What?!" Jade fumes. "That's it, he's gonna get it!" 

"'Nah, Jade, s'alright. Has his reasons." you reply emotionlessly.

"What?! Why would he have a reason for that?! Don't tell me you've gone crazy!" she bellows.

"Jade, calm down, he has Dave and -" you start, lifting your hands to reassure her.

"No, no, no. We're not going into that shit! He is never going to replace you with Dave! No one will, I swear!"

"I hope." you mutter.

"Aww, c'mon, it'll be alright, I swear. John just needs time is all!" she smiles again.

Something buzzes in her pocket, and huffing, she pulls out her phone. 

"Oh, speak of the devil. It's John."

>Davis: Be the anxtious kid on the phone.

You are now the anxtious kid on the phone, the low beep of the dial tone ringing in your ear. How do you tell Jade? You trust her. . .but. . .you couldn't just say: 'Oh I met my best friend and slammed the door in his face to avoid a mental breakdown'. Even though that was exactly what you'd done.

She picks up, uttering a generic greeting. You press happiness into your voice.

"Hi, Jade! You'll neeeeeeeever guess what happened today, y'see -" You are cut off by a sigh.

"Ugh, John you are such an idiot!" she scolds, and your eyebrows raise. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Wait, how do you know. . .?" you ask quietly.

"He told me."

"What?! Where is he?!" you say frantically.

"We're at the park! Calm down, okay? It'll be -"

"I'm on my way!"

"What?"

"See you in five, Jade!"

You stand up and sprint out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The notes all disappeared because they were being uncooperative, just in case you were wondering. Ugh, I cant write Jade.
> 
> What is sleep? x.x


	4. Chapter 4

>John: Run to the park and reunite with your bro like in the sappy romance movies.

What? Oh, that 'running into eachother's arms dramatically' scene? Don't be silly, you would never do that. As 'ironically awesome' as you think he would find that, you don't think its appropriate at the moment!

Anyway, upon reaching the park, you spot two figures beneath one of the dim park-lamps. You sprint over, beaming. You pull your friend into a strong hug. Davesprite tenses, surprised by your gesture, and you frown as you pull away.

"I, uh, sorry about the whole slamming the door in your face thing. I was just really nervous!" you explain. He nods slowly.

"'S fine." he drawls. You grin again, but pick up the slight tugging of Davesprite's lips downward. 

"You have no idea how much I missed you!" you exclaim excitedly, and he nods once again. You fight the urge to tackle him into another hug. 

"See, I told you, dumbass!" Jade groans at Davesprite, pursing her lips. You quirk an eyebrow, looking at the two.

"Told him what?" you ask, thouroughly confused. Had Jade and Davesprite been talking about you? That's against the brocode, isn't it? Dave said something like that once, but you don't remember exactly what the rule was. Jade rolls her eyes.

"Dave thought you hadn't missed him." she states sternly, as if she is scolding Davesprite with her words. 

"'S not Dave." your bro grumbles, and you and Jade exchange glances before she scoffs.

"You know what I meant!" she concludes.

"Wait, you don't go by Dave?" you ask him. He cringes a little bit.

"I'm not Dave," his words are bitter, "You already have a Dave." You frown at his harsh words.

"You can still be Dave, though! It isn't illegal to have the same name!" you reply hastily. You hear Jade mumble something along the lines of 'idiot' behind you.

"Look, I'm just not Dave, okay?" he hisses. Your eyebrows raise, frown deepening. 

"Uh. . .alright then, so, what should I call you. . .?" you ask nervously, unhappy with his outburst.

"I don't know. Davis, I guess." he replies, voice lowered again. The anger has melted from his face and back into his façade, and his face is cold, lacking expression.

"Er, okay then, Davis?" you reply, forcing another smile. He seems happy with you complying, but the name is foriegn on your tongue. You feel uncomfortable, he has always been Dave to you.

Could something have changed between you? You just hope this is who you've been missing all along. . .you don't want to be crushed again. . .

>John: Quit this emotional fiesta and go be Davis already.

Alright, alright, calm down. You are now once again Davis. You just scared the heck out of your best friend, due to a small emotional outburst you really hoped wouldn't come up.

It came up.

Anyway, with your name settled, your eyes dart away from your friend.

"Uh, Davis?" John asks after a minute, or actually forty seconds and twenty eight milliseconds, not that you've been counting.

"Hm?" you keep your gaze averted, but with your shades on, you may be looking straight at him, for all he knows.

"Where were you?" his words sound concerned, and you really, really don't want to look at him, but your gaze locks on his ocean blue eyes. Jade, who was previously behind you, moves next to John and gives him what looks like a reassuring look.

"I. . ." Where were you? In a crappy apartment building with a twitching fan that smelled of old tobacco and stale chips? What were you to tell him? That you spent months tracking him down, screaming through the walls until your neighbours screamed right back? That you nearly went crazy searching? That you hadn't eaten half of the time, forgotten how to sleep, that no, you can't float you have to walk?

"I don't know." you reply sullenly, the lie dripping from your lips and leaving the familiar metallic taste of blood, a taste that makes you want to vomit and scream.

". . .Alright." he replies, and you open your mouth, the words screaming in your head but never pushing past your lips because it scares you, him knowing. You bite your lip and try to maintain your façade.

You don't want to go mad, you realize now, and you think finding your best friend has already driven you half way there.

"Davis? Are you alright?" John asks, and you want to scream that you aren't, you've missed him so much and you just want to hug him and cry.

"I'm fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I can put that Sadstuck tag to use next chapter~ ;)
> 
> Thank you for all the kind comments - it is very appreciated! c:


	5. NOTICE TO READERS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Incoming update? That's up to YOU!

Hello, sweethearts!

  


My lord, it's been ages. Regardless, I've long since departed from the "Homestuck Bandwagon", unfortunately. Nonetheless, I still plan to continue this -- in fact, I am in the process of re-writing the entire thing right now. I think I will be reposting, so if you follow this fanfic, then I will link you to the new one. How does that sound? So, if you preferred this style, and don't like the new one, you can continue to view this one, even if it won't be updated. 

After I fix both this and _Atropa Belladonna_ , I believe I will retire from writing fanfiction entirely, so these would be my last works! At least, I think so, unless I have the sudden inspiration to write them again. I've started pursuing the composition of my own original writing, now. And as much as I adored writing these, they aren't exactly my forte anymore. That being said, I am not sure it will still suit your tastes; it has been years, now, and my writing has changed significantly. I can't promise it will be the same style, but the ideas will still be same, and the plot will be unchanging. It will also be much, much longer.

Anyway, before I do any of that, I need your confirmation, readers, if there are any of you left -- **would you like this to be re-written?** **Would you like if I reposted it, and finished the story for you?**   


If so, please be a dear and let me know! 

  


Much love,

seerofheart


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